


The Renaissance

by Czifer



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25647334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Czifer/pseuds/Czifer
Summary: Infidelity seems to be the new normal as Detective Mitch Conner of the LAPD sets out on a nerve wracking journey to find the killer of the woman he dearly loved. With all odds stacked against him, the Devil seems to be his only ally. But is he the Devil? Read on to find what it is that the Detective finds that makes him weak in his knees and makes him want to be dead. Will the Devil do his part in punishing the sinner, or will the sinner roam unabashed.
Kudos: 3





	The Renaissance

The Renaissance  
-Mohammed Ezhan

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner and have no intention of hurting any religious sentiments. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.  
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“I’m always by your side Chloe, always…” his words trailed off, echoing through a plethora of dark thoughts which made him pull his rugged blonde hair and woke him up. From being the youngest officer to make it to detective in the Los Angeles Police Department-LAPD, Mitch Connors had come a long way. His once lucid blue eyes now looked dreary, just like the lackluster cup of coffee he was brewing on a typical Christmas morning. It had been a rough month for him.  
It had seemed surreal to him, for someone as evangelical as Chloe Hamilton with her immaculate beauty to have asked him out. The Paparazzi community would loathe such an act, especially when she is the daughter of the Editor of Los Angeles's finest The Evening Post. Now, she was gone, and with her the light of his life. But she had handed him a purpose to live, a desire to fulfill- to avenge her brutal murder. Time was running away, and he was yet to find any substantial evidence to prove Louis Hamilton guilty. He was Chloe’s elder brother. And Mitch had to find the evidence that could prove the belligerent animosity Louis had committed on one dreaded day almost a month back. Louis would be set free tomorrow if Detective Mitch couldn’t establish evidence to prove his act of crime, leaving him embarrassed. But most importantly, he would have failed Chloe, his Chloe.

He groaned as he opened the curtains, the light from the white Christmas snow piercing his eyes like an arrow. Just then, his detective eye caught a red, vintage 1969 Aston Martin parked in his driveway bearing a ‘666’ on its number plate. The after duty beer on Christmas Eve seemed to have taken away his sense of acumen. He was sipping his cup of coffee as he tried to remember the previous evening. His memory was driven by obscurity and the chronology of events contorted. Mitch could vaguely remember kicking an empty can on a desolate street, which nearly missed hitting a mysterious old man who sat with a lit cigar selling shells by the empty road. There was something eerie about him, yet his eyes had a twinkle that might have pushed him to vent out everything. After all, a listening ear is all one needs. Mitch seemed to recall something about a ceremony to summon the Devil- the actual Devil. He couldn’t understand if he was hallucinating, for now, the spooky old man did send shivers down his spine. As he took the last sip, he reminisced having seen the same set of events in his dream right before Chloe’s dejected face took over and woke him up.

For Detective Mitch Connors of the LAPD, the thin line between the reel and the real seemed to be evaporating, when there was a knock- a cliché 2 tap knock on the door that startled him. Usually, this would be the newspaper guy, but, at this hour, even he was a tad early, and the knock eliminated the possibility. As Mitch stood contemplating, “Oh, come on now. I don’t like to wait”, said an eccentric voice across the door that had a tinge of a British accent. As he opened the latch, a tall white man in an immaculate dark suit with charm in his brown eyes, a spring in his stance, and a strong woody masculine scent brushed past him with a ‘Helloooo’ that seemed to be annoyingly sophisticated. The mysterious man strolled around as he took a sip, pouring the remaining coffee into a cup and immediately spew it out.  
“What in the bad heaven is this?” he retorted.  
Mitch commanded: “Who the hell are you?”  
“Ahhh, Precisely, its king,” came the reply as he continued to speak, “Now, where are my manners, I’m Lucifer Morningstar- the Devil.”

Mitch was perplexed, his anger slowly taking over as his face twitched when the man spoke, “I am here to help you, do my end of the bargain by granting you 3 wishes, at the end of which, you shall owe me a favor. Now, what’s the wait for? Chloe’s murderer needs to be punished.” He raised his voice as he said, “Hail to the Devil, The connoisseur of favors himself, straight from Dante’s Inferno.”  
“Wait, what?” Mitch asked himself, “How does this stranger know about Chloe and her murder? It could have been the news, but the sheer temerity of his to storm into my house is strange. He could be a conman, who had heard me ostensibly venting out to the mysterious man, and come out to help and earn some bucks by taking advantage of my helpless situation.”  
Help… that was what Mitch needed, and whoever this imposter was, Mitch could use his help and see things from his perspective and so he asked Lucifer: “What do you know about Chloe and her death?”  
“Definitely a lot of more than you do,” Lucifer let out a chuckle as he said so.  
“Come on now, don’t stall me, someone needs to be punished. Off we go!”  
“Where to?”  
“For starters, let us head to the teeny tiny office of yours in the LAPD.”  
“But, its Christmas!”  
“Ahh, Mitch, don’t be an itch, and also something that rhymes much better with your name. I’m the Devil for my sake. Dear old dad spoils humanity with such festivities. Are you waiting for Santa now? You can stay waiting for him for eternity while I grab the killer by his collar and punish him.”  
Mitch had got the push he needed. A raging fire inside him fueled by his love for Chloe and angst against her killer. He was ready, and so was Lucifer Morningstar- the self-proclaimed Devil.

As Mitch tried to open his garage, Lucifer was honking impatiently in his vintage 1969 Aston Martin, asking him to join while he mocked his old Skoda. Mitch wasn’t sure how Lucifer knew about the car he had, but there were more pressing matters at hand, so he got in the car- riding shotgun. Lucifer fastened his seatbelt, accelerated the vintage beauty as he swerved around and plowed on, the Devil’s number-666, on its license plate now sparkling with pristine precision.

As Lucifer drove through the same routine roads Mitch Connors had driven for close to a decade, Mitch’s mind drifted off into a vortex, one which made him ask himself the question he had asked Lucifer: “What exactly did he know about Chloe Hamilton’s cold murder?”  
Mitch began to examine the predicament at stake: Derek Hamilton, the famous tycoon who had made a fortune from The Evening Post- the daily without which the morning coffee of most Americans seemed incomplete- was on his deathbed. His net worth was nearly the cumulative sum of economies of half a dozen poor countries in Africa. The publishing factory itself worth millions of dollars, standing tall in the Hollywood boulevard. His fortune was all set to be bequeathed to his 2 children, Chloe and Louis Hamilton. Both exceptionally well equipped with the temperament to take the business forward. Derek’s lawyer had made it clear to the press that the fortune would be split equally between the 2 heirs, as mentioned in the will. Mitch grumbled, “If only Louis’s greed hadn’t taken over, my Chloe wouldn’t have to go through all of this. I’m sure Chloe would have been happy to agree to make him the only heir. He didn’t have to brutally murder his own sweet sister to claim the ultimate right on the fortune that he was after.”  
The voicemail which Chloe had left him right before her death was still in Mitch’s phone, and it haunted him. “Mitch… Please save me”- her voice trembling with fear- “Louis has me trapped in a boat in the southern harbor and wants me dead to acquire all the wealth from dad. I can’t hide from him anymore. Mitch, you are all I have, please come and get me”.

As Mitch could have processed everything and uttered-“I’m always by your side Chloe, always…” the line went beep, and Mitch’s pulse was soaring sky-high with the adrenaline pumping vigorously. He had dropped the burger in his hand and raced to the southern harbor as fast as he could have. He had frantically questioned every boat rental owner, asking them to direct him to the boat Chloe and Louis were supposedly in. A man in his sixties, wearing a skull cap and sporting a grey beard from ‘Qureshi’s boat rentals,’ seemed to recognize Chloe’s picture Mitch was showing everyone at the harbor, and they had made a move on. Mitch could feel the nervous sweat accumulate on his forehead as he remembered animatedly searching for Chloe in the boat. All he could find was Louis, basking in the evening sun as he took a nap on a beach chair at the very top of Qureshi’s boat. A glass of wine half empty by his side. Alas, he realized that the deed had been done already before they had reached the boat.  
Mitch had thrashed him down, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine with Chloe still missing. Mitch had thought that Louis wasn’t aware of Chloe’s call to him- hence the complacency- lying down worry-free. The SWAT he had called on his way to the harbor had surrounded them, and the search for Chloe Hamilton was now in full swing.  
Mitch hadn’t left the harbor till Chloe was found. He remembered how everything had seemed to stop around him when the marine services had finally found Chloe’s body in the deep waters around midnight. With time frozen and his soul crushed, he had gathered every ounce of his courage to look at Chloe only to find her beautiful face now utterly unrecognizable. It was as if someone had brutally battered her face with a hard and tough object. With the density of the aquatic life in the southern ocean, it was almost fortuitous to have found her body in one piece.  
“I would have done the same to that Louis bastard if he wasn’t already in police custody by the time Chloe’s body was found.” Mitch was simmering with rage now.

As Mitch tried to reason how no forensic evidence had been found to deem Louis guilty, Lucifer interrupted him. He had totally seemed to have forgotten about Lucifer. “The Devil? Nah, This is a joke!” He let out a sigh as Lucifer began to speak.  
“I absolutely love Los Angeles, the city of angels. I could do with some cold, I presume, for its raging hot back home,” said Lucifer while turning up the volume on the radio.  
“Hot? Is it Africa?” Said Mitch with conspicuous sarcasm.  
“For hell sake, ‘hell’ it is. Don’t be a-you know what I mean, Mitch. You should definitely visit me down there sometime, you know.”  
As Mitch tried to understand and come up with a reply for that, Lucifer had hit the brakes and had gotten down briskly. ‘LAPD’ written boldly on the arch- the edges covered in white from the morning snow.

At the precinct, everybody seemed to recognize Lucifer and seemed to have the time of their lives. “Has he been here around before? I ought to see a therapist.” Mitch seemed to think when his train of thought was disrupted by a collision.  
“I-I’m really s-sorry Detective C-Conners.” Said a stuttering voice. The voice was of someone with a small, frail body that could be characterized by an intermittent stammer.  
This was Officer John Spencer- the office clown who was the center of all jokes in the precinct. One had to really listen very hard to pick up whatever John would try to convey. Nearly everyone seemed to pull rank on the timid John, and he would succumb to all of them. The most recent one being the beverages he had spilled on himself, which were supposed to be given to the prison inmates for Christmas. He had collided with Mitch as he was making a run to the restroom. All his colleagues had burst into a peal of laughter.  
“Careful, John, careful! Look after yourself.” All officers returned to normalcy upon seeing Detective Mitch, trying to contain their laughter.  
“S-Sir, can I ha-have a day off?” he was giving a reason for the same as Mitch interrupted him and nodded in approval.  
“Thank y-you, Sir.”  
As John made his way out, Mitch called him out: “John, that’s quite a stitch you’ve got yourself on your forehead there. I saw it earlier, but you know how things have been with me. Are you doing okay, John?”  
He turned back, and as if trying to conceal the scar with his hand and with tension in his eyes, John said, “Oh, that’s n-nothing, sir. I-I tripped down t-the stairs the ot-other night.”  
Mitch wasn’t entirely convinced as the years in the department told him that, that was a cut from a sharp object and not one you’d get when you tripped down the stairs. Anyhow, he let John go for now. He had plans to interrogate Louis and make him spill the beans. Lucifer stood there watching all of this from the side, away from the action, for now.

Two guards, clad in dark uniforms with badges and guns, held a stout man between them, handcuffed. Here was the dreaded Louis Hamilton. They nudged and pushed him violently as he tried to make his ground.  
“He could make a living as a Hollywood villain,” said one of the guards as he pointed towards Louis.  
“Yes, as a very horrible one,” said the other guard as both of them burst into laughter in agreement. When Louis tried to retaliate verbally, the guards hit him right in the ribs and the groin that made him moan in anguish and crawl on the ground. It was Lucifer who intervened. “Easy now, fellas! Let the Devil handle the punishment.” There was a sense of command in his voice, which made the guards adhere to him.  
It was Lucifer who held Louis by his arm and brought him into the interrogation room where Mitch was already there. Detective Mitch Connors was ready for war.

Mitch smacked the table with his clenched fists and said, “Listen, you scoundrel. You’re going to simply accept the fact that it was you who drowned Chloe. If I hear anything else from you, you will be doomed.”  
“I didn’t do it. I can’t even recall what happened on that day. I have been telling this for eternity now.”  
“It’s strange how each one of you tells the exact same thing.” Mitch was losing patience now.  
As Louis uttered the same thing again, Mitch was up and had punched him right on the nose with all his might. The blood trickled down slowly from Louis’s nose. It was Lucifer again who interrupted.  
“Why is everyone behind my job? Let the Devil handle the punishment. Now Mitch, let me take the liberty to grant you your first wish of the three.”  
As Louis recovered from the punch, Lucifer was now in front of him. His eccentric eyes staring right back at Louis’s.  
“Come on now, tell me, what do you desire the most?” Lucifer said most charmingly.  
“I, I just want to be free. Free of all the murder charges on me. I did not kill Chloe.”  
Lucifer turned his gaze towards Mitch and said: “He’s not your guy Mitch. The real killer is out there. You’ve got the wrong guy.”  
“And why do you think I’ll possibly believe that?”  
“Don’t be absurd. Nobody lies to the Devil. Besides, you can’t possibly look for balls if you don’t have them.” Lucifer said with his arms wide open as in to accentuate his point.   
Louis continued still recovering from the punch, “Look, it was a Monday morning, and I was beside dad in the hospital when Chloe came up to me and held my hand as I said, ‘We can’t afford to lose Dad.’ As the nurse asked us to wait outside, Chloe suggested that we needed some air. She said that we go to the southern harbor just as old times to refresh ourselves. I nodded, and we were there, having a nice lunch on the boat. We were drinking wine sitting on beach chairs when I seemed to have dozed off. I never doze off like that, but that day I did. Maybe it was all the stress. The next thing I know is, I was being thrashed by you with no knowledge of anything whatsoever. Mitch, I am as shocked and traumatized as you are. You might have loved her, but she was my dear little sister. And blood is thicker than water.”  
The two guards were here to take Louis back. Before Louis could be taken back, he turned as he wiped the blood from his face and said, “There was one more thing Officer. Chloe was adamant that we go in one particular boat from a boat rental shop called ‘Qureshi’s.’ I couldn’t understand why she insisted on that, but we had to wait for quite some time to rent that one particular boat while many others were available.”

As Mitch sat on his chair dejected and looked at the picture of Chloe he had on his desk, Lucifer was making sure he toyed around with everything kept around the office. On another day, this would really piss Mitch, but today this didn’t seem to matter. As he put down Chloe’s picture, the telephone on his desk rang. Mitch wasn’t expecting any calls, and he thought of ignoring it.  
“What if it was an emergency?” Mitch thought and picked it up.  
“Detective Mitch Connors from the LAPD. How can I help you?”  
“Hello, Detective Mitch. This is Dr. Julia Roberts from the forensic team. I have some good news.”  
“I could do with some good news,” he said nonchalantly.  
“We ran another test on Chloe Hamilton searching for forensic evidence. This was after Officer John Spencer had told us to do so following your orders. And we found traces of DNA in the form of some fine strands of hair on her clothes in which she was found dead. The DNA is of Louis Hamilton. Officer John had said to inform you as soon as possible when the results were out. We hope we haven’t disappointed you, Detective Mitch.”  
There was a sense of accomplishment on Mitch’s once sad face. He didn’t seem to remember telling John to order another test in the morgue. But that was the least of his concern now. A waft of satisfaction surrounded him. He reveled in the jubilations with ecstasy. “I couldn’t be happier, Dr. Julia. Please send the reports very soon so that I can put that liar behind bars and let him rot forever. Too bad Louis would never get the fortune he killed Chloe for, now that he’s in for a very very long time.”

Mitch picked up Chloe’s picture again, and as if hugging it, he said: “You can smile now, Chloe. You’ve been rightly avenged.” As Mitch tried to explain the happenings to Lucifer, he was interrupted by a shattering sound.  
Lucifer had seemed to drop a photo frame. However, Mitch was in no mood for a rebuke. He was brimming with ebullience now. Mitch got up and saw what he had dropped. It was the annual staff picture of the precinct. As Lucifer picked up the photo from the shattered glass, he pointed out to a girl in the frame and asked, “Who’s this pretty lady now?”  
Mitch took a look and realized it was Ella, Ella Rodriguez. She was sentenced to six months of community service of being a helper in the precinct. She had gotten herself into drugs after losing her parents in an accident and had later dropped out of college too. In the precinct, she had really started to get along with everyone and had come totally clean. Even so, Ella had Resumed college. However, she wasn’t to be seen in the precinct for a month now and wouldn’t return her calls. Mitch seemed to be suddenly worried. He had once mistaken her for Chloe from the back, and he was astonished for how similar statures Chloe and Ella shared. They had the same hair, which added to the similarities. “One could easily mistake them for the other except for their facial features,” Mitch said out loud when he turned back and found Lucifer sitting and swiveling on his chair. Lucifer said, “Time to return the favor, Mitch. I could use your expertise in finding out this lovely lady. Let’s get on with it then.”  
Dr. Julia’s phone call seemed to have invigorated Mitch, rekindling a blazing flame, turning him back into a force to reckon with. Sure to say, Mitch had got his mojo back and was raring to get back to what he did best- being a detective.

“What better way to get over my detective blues than to get on with a new case already. Ella, what have you gotten yourself into?” Mitch thought as he looked over some files to find Ella’s address.  
“Ah! There it is. Ella Rodriguez, 6th avenue, parker’s street,” he made a note as he heard Lucifer honking again. Only this time, Mitch had a grin as he walked over to the ‘D-evil’s car’ as Lucifer wanted his 1969 Aston Martin to be called. It was almost evening by now as the city prepared itself for Christmas.  
“Would you mind if I drive?” asked Mitch. “I got to be back in the driver’s seat now,” he said as he winked.  
“Now we’re speaking, aren’t we? Come on, just be gentle with her. She doesn’t like new hands on her.” Lucifer told Mitch as they drove on to 6th avenue, parker’s street.

As they drove on the snowy roads, carols echoed through the houses, and the ornamented Christmas trees stood majestically- wrapped around with jingle bells and glittery tapes. The air was filled with festive enthusiasm, clinking sounds reverberating in the background as they all rejoiced in the glory of the lord.  
“Boring! Just look at all of them,” whined Lucifer raising his brows in despair and resentment.  
Mitch guffawed as he said, “You know, you seem to me as an angel, probably a lucky charm. Before you, I was lost. But now, look at me, back to old ways.” Mitch could see Lucifer do an eye roll as he let out a sigh.  
“Technically speaking, well, I am an angel or was- only the fallen one. I was deemed to be the ruler of hell for all eternity after I led a rebellion against dear old dad. He seemed really pissed off.”  
“Okay, even if I assume that you actually are the Devil. So, how is it? I mean, what do you do down there?”  
“Somebody’s interested, alright! Well, I punish people. Imagine a ghetto with the worst of sinners all around the world; that’s hell, only bigger and far worse. That Hitler chap of yours gave me quite some ideas, you see. The sinners are stuck in an infinite loop of their own wrongdoings for all of eternity.” Lucifer said as he smirked, relishing it as he pictured all of it in his mind.  
“So, contrary to popular belief, the Devil is not evil. He punishes evil. Is that right? You punish people for their sins. That’s what you do. The Devil is the punisher of evil and not evil himself, is that right?”  
“But… yeah, I mean no,” Lucifer was lost for words for the first time. He’d never thought about this in the way Mitch just had. He became dubious as he began searching for an answer-one which he didn’t know, for now. As Lucifer could comprehend whatever was said and answer Mitch, Mitch called out. “There it is. 6th street.” Mitch parked the car in front of a little cottage whose lights were out and was the only one without any decorations for Christmas. The sun was almost about to set. Mitch could sense that something wasn’t right.

“Hell-ooooo, anybody there?” called out Lucifer loudly.  
“Slowly now, let the professional do his job?” Mitch whispered as he pulled out his gun and peeked into the side window.  
“I cannot see anything, Lucifer,” Mitch said as he heard a loud thud that startled him. “I reckon you can now.” Lucifer proclaimed as he had kicked down the front door with his might, which had caused the thud.  
“Lucifer!”  
“Stop whining now. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”  
The house seemed to be a humble dwelling from the outset. However, a dismantled closet, a broken window pane, and the disarranged heavy couch indicated a struggle. “Seems like somebody must have broken into this place,” Mitch said as he found Lucifer picking up a handle of a broken table lamp which was surrounded by shards of glass that lay scattered around a shattered glass table.  
As Mitch walked over to have a look at what Lucifer was holding, his detective eye caught small droplets of blood on the beige carpet they stood on. It was almost invisible for the naked human eye, but then this was Detective Mitch of the LAPD. “I think we are onto something huge here, Lucifer,” he said, stroking his chin as he found trickles of blood on the handle of the table lamp Lucifer had picked up. “This looks bad, really bad!” Mitch said, sounding despondent as he hoped this wasn’t what he thought it seemed to be. As they scoured the house looking for other clues, Mitch found a baseball bat lying obscurely in the small backyard.  
“She doesn’t strike me as someone who would play baseball Mitch,” Lucifer said as he took a look at it.

Lucifer and Mitch stood looking over the festive well-lit street, evaluating what to make of the situation at hand. Lucifer held the baseball bat now, as he looked over to find Mitch thinking. As they realized that it had started to snow, a boy of 7-8 years wearing a thick winter jacket stopped his bicycle in front of them. A small box covered in gift wrap seemed to peek from his bag pack.   
“Is Miss Ella back from her holidays?” the kid asked Mitch and Lucifer, exposing his two missing teeth as he did so. Mitch walked towards the kid as he stooped to ask, “Hey kid, what’s your name now?”  
“Umm… Ethan.”  
“What do you have in your bag there, Ethan?”  
“Mommy said to give the neighbors some gifts for Christmas.”  
“You’re a sweet guy Ethan. Did you and Ella speak often?”  
“She was my favorite. She used to bring me my favorite chocolates every weekend without a miss. I haven’t seen her for a month now.” The kid put his head down, expressing sadness as he seemed to miss Ella.  
As Mitch tried to cheer him up, he put his around him and asked, “did you say that miss Ella was on her holiday now? Did she tell you this herself?”  
“No, no, it was Sunday evening already, and she hadn’t given me my chocolates. I hadn’t seen her for an entire week, so I went over to see if she was there in her house. I could hear some loud noises from the inside, but no one would open the door. It was as if someone was hitting something with all their might.”  
“So, nobody opened the door that day?”  
“As I was returning home, I heard the door open. As I turned to see if it was Ella, I found a short man with dark glasses and a hat. He had something like a golf kit slung on his back. I asked him where Miss Ella was. As he put the golf kit into a blue van parked outside, he said that Miss Ella was on holiday with her parents and would be gone for a long time,” said Ethan trying to remember everything that had happened.  
“Can you tell us a little more about that man? How did he look?”  
“I couldn’t see him much in the dark as he was trying to hide his face, but it was tough to pick up whatever he was saying. He spoke like my younger brother, who’s just learning to speak. Mommy uses a word for it; I haven’t learned yet. Maybe listening to my younger brother at home made me more adept at understanding him.” The boy beamed with a smile as he said this, feeling proud of himself. Ethan continued, “I didn’t really like him though and found him shady. So, I followed his blue van in my bicycle.”  
“Ethan, can you show us where he went to?”  
“Umm… I could, but I haven’t got any chocolates for Christmas- now that Miss Ella’s not there,” said Ethan as he winked and gave a mischievous look.  
Lucifer interrupted, quite impressed: “Now… Somebody likes favors, ever heard of me?” Lucifer asked.   
“Oh please! Not with the child at least, you’re gonna scare the little kid with your devil talk,” Mitch spoke and promised him lots of chocolates later.  
The kid nodded in disapproval and said, “A deal’s a deal.” When Mitch tried to negotiate with him, Lucifer gave him a big Chocolate bar, which caught Ethan’s eyes.  
“How did you do that?”  
“How many times should I remind you that you’re with the devil? Trust me, Mitch; I know these kinds of humans. It’s preposterous how I can’t find anyone of these pesky little creatures you call kids back in hell.”  
It was getting dark now, the sun almost set. Snowfall was getting heavier. Having put the chocolate bar in his bag pack, Ethan said, “Follow me,” as he started pedaling.  
“Aye aye captain! Now the devil’s the one following orders,” said Lucifer as he accelerated the ‘D-evils car.’

Ethan rode down the street and took a sharp left as he pedaled across the block with full speed. After following him for a few minutes, Mitch started to realize that they had been so close to the southern harbor- the harbor Chloe was killed, and he shut his eyes, hoping the kid wouldn’t lead them there. As Lucifer continued following the kid, Mitch could feel the crisp icy smell of the winter sea caressing his face as he fought against remembering Chloe. When Lucifer had stopped the car, it all seemed so familiar to Mitch. The kid pointed to a shop named ‘Qureshi’s boat rentals’ and left them as the snow started to pick pace.  
It was Christmas- a holiday season, and most importantly, it was winter and snowy. Most of the boat rentals had their shops closed as business was rather slack in the winter season. Nobody liked to be out in the sea when it was snowy. As Mitch got down the car, a surge of emotions welled up inside him. He would rather be anywhere else but here. Mitch remembered how he had frantically shown Chloe’s picture to everyone at the harbor. And now, he was standing in front of the shop whose owner had recognized her and in whose boat Chloe had been brutally murdered.

“Hello there, can I help you?” said a deep old voice, which Mitch instantly recognized. It was Qureshi, now sporting a much longer grey beard. The skull cap still on.  
“Hello, Detective, Merry Christmas! I hope you’ve been okay. I have been offering prayers to Allah seeking peace for Chloe. Now, what brings you here, on a splendid Christmas evening? I must insist you two come inside. Seems like there’s going to be a lot of snow today.”  
Lucifer and Mitch were welcomed inside as they were given a cup of tea by Qureshi’s wife to suit themselves. “This place is usually deserted during this time except for us and a few others who have set up their homes next to the shops.” After a brief pause of awkwardness, Qureshi broke the silence again, reading the discomfort on Mitch’s face: “Detective, I would do anything to help you put Louis Hamilton behind bars,” Qureshi said in a pleasing and comforting tone.  
It was Lucifer who spoke: “Oh! There’s no need for that. We are here to ask you about something else.” Mitch continued, “Yes, we’ve found evidence to prove that Louis is guilty. Now, do you recall renting one of your boats to someone who came in a blue van a month back? We might benefit from your memory.”  
Qureshi stroked his beard as he tried to remember and said, “Age is catching up on me detective, but I vaguely remember seeing a blue van parked outside the shop. A van of that color is rare and such vans are a sight for sore eyes. They were all over the streets back in the day.”  
Mitch put down his cup and asked him inquisitively, “Do you remember anything strange that happened on that day?”  
“I had been feeling under the weather and had left my teenage nephew, Abdul, to take care of the shop in my absentia. His parents have been on a pilgrimage. So he has been living with us now. Maybe he could be of some help to you,” Qureshi said as he called Abdul. Abdul came out of his room and sat next to Qureshi, opposite Lucifer and Mitch. Qureshi asked Abdul if he knew anything about a blue van and if anyone from it had rented a boat on that day. Abdul suddenly looked startled and worried as if searching for words to answer. Mitch could see Abdul had started to sweat profusely as he looked here and there, avoiding any eye contact. Hesitatingly he continued, “I…, I don’t know anything.”  
Mitch could say at once that something was fishy. As Mitch tried to say something, Lucifer was up and cast his enigmatic gaze on Abdul. This seemed to shake Abdul up, and he said in a jiffy, “Look, I’m sorry! I was scared. I’ll tell you everything.”  
“See, nobody lies to the devil,” Lucifer said in the most charming way.  
“It was a gloomy Sunday evening, and almost all the nearby shops were closed. As it grew darker, I decided to shut the shop when a blue van pulled up in front of it. A short man in glasses and a hat with a big bag that looked like a golf kit came over and asked me if he could rent a boat. I denied considering I had asked all the crewmen to leave. He asserted, saying he just needed to be on the boat and didn’t really want to take it out into the sea and placed a big bundle of dollars on the desk. But when the man went towards the boat along with his big bag, I warned him of the strict no luggage policy on the boats. This seemed to really irk him as he pushed me towards the wall as he pointed a gun at me and threatened to kill me if I ever said anything about this to anyone. I could see that he was bleeding as he had a big cut on his forehead. I let him go, and he was back in about half an hour. Oh! And detectives, the man really stammered a lot.”  
“Stammered?” Mitch’s mind immediately reminded him of someone, and the cut had started to make sense.

Mitch took out his phone and, after a few frantic swipes, showed Abdul a picture of someone.  
“Yes, he’s the one!” Abdul said as he was shocked to find the same man in LAPD uniform. It was the timid Officer- Officer John Spencer.

“Ah! Somebody’s let the cat out of the bag, alright.” Lucifer said.  
Mitch couldn’t believe it. This was the last thing he was expecting. “John? No, it cannot be him. He’s too gullible to do something like this.”  
“Maybe that’s what the little kid meant when he said that the man spoke like his younger brother, who was learning to speak,” Lucifer said.  
“Why would John be at Ella’s place? Has John really done what I think he has?” Mitch was on the verge of losing his sanity.  
“Well, it’s always the people we least expect, who do things we thought they never would,” Lucifer said and continued, “There’s only one person who can answer your questions, John Spencer himself and I very well know where he is now.”  
“How do you happen to know that?”  
“Now now, don’t doubt the devil’s dexterity. Someone needs to be punished and punished soon. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”  
Lucifer and Mitch got into the car as they left the Qureshi’s. It was now snowing really heavily, and the roads were covered with it, making it nearly impossible to drive. But with questions unanswered and with lives at stake, there was no stopping Detective Mitch and Lucifer as they drove amidst the freezing snow to get hold of John Spencer.  
“Requesting backup for Detective Mitch Connors, over and out!” Mitch knew this was going to get worse.

Lucifer pulled up the car in front of a tall building, which seemed to be an apartment. It seemed to radiate the very essence of Christmas, as it gleamed with the eccentric lightings twinkling amidst the milky snow. Mitch had his gun out as he followed Lucifer up the stairs. He was trying to catch his breath as Lucifer pointed towards a room on their left. As Mitch tried to see into the room through a small gap between a window and its curtains on the inside, he could see John holding a glass of red wine in fine attire walking towards a candlelit dining table. The scar on his forehead was so very conspicuous now. He wasn’t alone, there was somebody else in the room too. Mitch leaned forward, trying to listen to their conversation and was surprised that he could hear so clearly through the window.  
“D-Darling, you look r-ravishing,” said John. The curtains were masking the other person in the room as Mitch tried to take a sneak peek by looking through different angles. Just then, a gentle breeze blew that made the curtains move with the wind creating a wider gap for Mitch to look into. Mitch could now see John clearly as he sat opposite a lady who seemed to be dressed exquisitely- her back towards Mitch. “It’s finally the night of celebration we’ve been waiting for,” said the woman dressed in a sparkling black dress. However, her voice seemed too familiar to Mitch as he tried to get a clearer look. “C-Can you g-get me some more w-wine please?”  
John said as the woman got up elegantly, kissed John on his cheek, and finally turned as she went to get some more wine. Mitch immediately gasped as he went down on his knees in shock when he saw who it actually was. It was Chloe Hamilton.  
“Dear me, what could possibly draw a stunning woman such as Chloe towards this douche?” Lucifer scorned.  
Staring at the bizarre image, Mitch’s initial revulsion and shock gave way to a sudden upwelling of anger. He had seen her dead corpse when it was found in the waters. He couldn’t get his head around how something like this could be vaguely possible. Chloe’s infidelity seemed to stab him in the gut as he grew flustered and dismayed. He involuntarily started to take an aim as Lucifer stopped him: “Don’t be absurd, Mitch! Wouldn’t you want to know what really happened?”  
Mitch really didn’t want to. The woman he loved who he had presumed to be brutally murdered was up and alive, celebrating with an officer who could very well be a killer. Mitch’s head was spinning as he saw Chloe get back with a big bottle of red wine.  
Chloe spoke: “John, I want to know how you did it?”  
“Did w-what?”  
“How you pulled off something so incredibly impossible. I mean to fake my death was one thing, but to pluck evidence from thin air and frame an innocent man is beyond my understanding. Poor Louis, he fell in the trap when he agreed to come with me to the southern harbor. We had to wait for some time to rent the boat you had told me to, but luckily Louis didn’t get dubious about it. On the ship, he was completely unaware of the sedative in his wine glass as he merrily drunk it. When he passed out, I made a call to Mitch as I imposed fake allegations on poor Louis. I then had to make sure I found the bag you had hidden the day before. It had really started to stink as I pulled Ella out of the bag and untied her. God, to see her face all battered up was really gross. I threw her into the water with all my might as you gave me a scare when the helicopter that was supposed to pick me up was late. I stood there in anticipation, fearing Mitch would be there before you, but the chopper was finally there that picked me up. Living in isolation to prove you’re dead is way harder than faking your death. Was it easy, John? Considering the scar that Ella gave you?”  
“W-Well, I think of it as a small p-price to pay for salvation. She w-was a tough girl, that Ella. She did p-put up a fight on that day when the c-chloroform didn’t do the trick. She picked up a table lamp and t-tried to strike me with it, but she narrowly missed. However, I couldn’t e-escape when she bashed it on my head as I bent to p-pick up the baseball bat I had brought along. That was the l-last blow she could manage for in the n-next few minutes, I had jabbed her on her head with s-severe swings of the bat. My next job was to make sure t-that her face would be unrecognizable, and when I w-was done, it seemed to me that it was actually Chloe Hamilton that I h-had killed. No wonder everybody at the LAPD got fooled, especially Mitch. The golf kit proved to be much smaller, and I had to tie Ella up to m-make her fit inside. I had to go through a pesky k-kid on my way out, after which I had t-to point a gun at a teenage boy in the boat r-rental shop to hide the bag inside the boat. Pretty s-simple, you see.”  
At this point, Mitch wasn’t even in his senses as he felt sorry for Ella and grieved for her. It was too much to take in for Mitch. “But why pretend to love me? Why did Chloe need me?” Mitch seemed to question Lucifer no longer able to contain the pain in his voice as he continued to hear them.  
It was Chloe who spoke, “I should have known Mitch wouldn’t be of much help. The only reason I pretended to love him was because I had thought that his love for me would cast a shadow over the investigation. And that he would leave no stone unturned to prove Louis guilty even when he was not. Too bad he couldn’t do any of it, and you John had to intervene. I’m still not able to guess how exactly you presented the fake evidence out of thin air to frame Louis.”  
Mitch was devastated as his world went into a spin. He had been manipulated like a puppet, whose strings were extensively pulled along deliberately. John started to speak, “D-Don’t be too h-hard on Mitch. He would be playing a key role n-now as he files the final report, c-considering the fake evidence he has been presented with. T-this will finally prove Louis guilty, and I shall h-have what I have been wanting.”  
“But how did you manage to present the fake evidence?” asked Chloe inquisitively.  
“L-Life’s easy w-when people don’t take you seriously, Chloe. You get away even after doing something gravely serious, just b-because people think that you’re incapable of doing it. I u-used this for my benefit. When I realized that Mitch wouldn’t be able to p-prove Louis guilty and he would be set free, I pretended to offer help to the prison guards. For a week, I would be the one to take food and other beverages t-to Louis and some other inmates and would mess up d-deliberately too only to make them believe how i-impotent I was. They laughed at me for doing s-such menial tasks considering I was an Officer. I waited for an opportunity, and I got one when it was time for the haircuts of the inmates. I o-offered to be the one to dispose of the cut hair. This gave me a window to get hold of Louis’s hair. Now, I only had to make sure that the f-forensics would find strands of his hair on Ella’s c-clothes that everyone considered Chloe’s. This was fairly easy, c-considering I used Mitch’s name to get into the evidence room and p-provided them with the evidence they thought they never had. I then told Dr. Julia Roberts of the forensics that D-Detective Mitch needed one more thorough check done, and they c-couldn’t refuse. Nobody doubted m-me. And that’s how I did it! T-There is one thing you haven’t told me, Chloe, h-how did you make your dad, Derek sign the altered will?”  
“Dad loves his drinks, John. I happened to add a slightly different sedative to dad’s drinks when it was just the both of us that set him into a state of euphoria. I made him sign a will, which states that in case the fortune cannot be bequeathed to the immediate heirs, it should be transferred to a cousin named Maze, who lives in New York with the bank details mentioned as well. This would work perfectly well, considering I am dead to the world, and now with Louis proven guilty, he wouldn’t acquire the wealth as well. However, there is no Maze. I’ll change my name to Maze, and once Dad passes away- which I’m sure is just a few days from now; we can shift to New York and lead a new luxurious life. I’ve placed the bank details and a copy of the altered will inside a folder on the desk.”  
“Y-you’ve done some great work yourself. I just forgot to m-mention that it is ‘I’ and not ‘w-we’ who will be shifting to N-New York. I planned on having you onboard until the m-money was transferred, but with all the details intact, I don’t see why I should delay the g-good stuff,” John said as he pointed a gun at her.  
Mitch immediately recovered as he said Lucifer to get the backup force up there when it was ready and went in as he kicked the front door open with his gun pointing at John. “Drop it, John, it’s over! You’re not getting away from this,” Mitch said as he looked at Chloe with angst and a feeling of betrayal. John’s gun still pointed at Chloe.  
“M-Mitch, do you still want to save her? After all that s-she’s made you go through?” John said without taking his eye off Chloe. Mitch realized that John wouldn’t let Chloe go, and as he could pull the trigger, Mitch shot him in the arm as he went into a spin, considering his frail body as he dropped his gun and lay down in anguish and pain. As Mitch bent over to pick up John’s gun, there was a loud gunshot. It was Chloe. She had shot Mitch in the leg as he knelt in excruciating pain.  
“You don’t expect someone to come this far without a little aid, do you?” Chloe said.  
“All this just for a little money,” Mitch cried in pain as he looked at her.  
“Oh, it’s a lot of money, Mitch. Precisely why I can’t let you spoil my meticulous plan. I’m sorry, Mitch,” Chloe said and pulled the trigger of her gun. “No…” Cried Lucifer as he arrived with the backup and leaped in front of Mitch. The bullet had hit Lucifer right in his chest as he struggled to breathe. He lay down with a pool of blood around him. “Someone, please call the medics,” Mitch cried loudly as he held Lucifer in his arms. The officers who had just arrived had taken control as Chloe and John were handcuffed and taken down.  
Lucifer was struggling to speak: “Mitch… And there’s your third wish. You made the devil take a bullet for you,” he said as he forced a chuckle.  
“No! No, this cannot happen. And you’re the devil, you can’t die.”  
“I… I’m just an incarnation. Not the first time I’m dying.”  
“But, how is this, the third wish? What about the second one? And what about the favor I owe you now?”  
Lucifer was struggling to breathe now: “I’m a devil of my word. You would be too naïve to think I dropped Ella’s picture by mistake back at your office. That was your second wish. And I knew it all along that it was John. I was here to help you, Mitch, not do everything on my own. Also, you don’t owe me anything now. I always thought I was the embodiment of all evil, but you made me realize on the way to Ella’s place that that’s not who I am. You made me realize that every saint has a past and every sinner, a future,” Lucifer continued to say as Mitch saw the medics arrive, after which his vision got blurry. He got unconscious as the pain in his knee became unbearable.

Mitch Connors found himself in a hospital bed when he opened his eyes. It seemed to him that he had been passed out for an eternity. His head hurt a little. He then suddenly realized about Lucifer as he struggled to get out of the bed. His leg was hurting a lot now. As he limped across his room towards the reception, he could hear the news, “Just in, Derek Hamilton, the famous newspaper tycoon breathed his last this morning. With the dramatic events that unfolded on Christmas, Louis Hamilton is free of all charges and becomes the only heir to Derek Hamilton after being proven not guilty.” Mitch stood there thinking as a nurse came along, “I should insist you stay on your bed, Mr. Connors.”  
“For how long have I been here?”  
“It’s been 3 days since Christmas, Mr. Connors.”  
“Do you know if Lucifer Morningstar could make it? Did he survive the bullet?”  
“I beg your pardon, sir, but it was only you that was brought here by the officers on that night.”  
Mitch was in shock. Two officers stood nearby, whom Mitch recognized from that day. “Why didn’t you bring Lucifer along?” Mitch was furious. The officers were confused, “We are sorry sir, but we found only you when we reached there, we’ve transferred Chloe Hamilton to a prison in the outskirts, and John Spencer is being treated under police custody. There was nobody else there, sir.”  
Mitch refused to believe any of that, “How can nobody remember Lucifer? He was with me all along. This is all a lie,” he said as he asked the nurse to show him a list of all the patients that had been admitted in the past few days. The nurse insisted Mitch go back to his bed and rest, but Mitch wouldn’t do so unless he saw the list. As he animatedly searched through the list, his eyes caught a ‘Daniel Morningstar,’ which read that he had died on the 20th of December. Daniel Morningstar had electrocuted himself accidentally. He asked the nurse about him, and she said that he was a millionaire recluse and was already dead when he was brought here. Mitch was adamant that he saw this Daniel Morningstar if his body was in the morgue. The nurse hesitated, but after realizing that Mitch was a detective in the LAPD, she helped Mitch get on a rolling chair as she took him to the morgue.  
As she pulled out Daniel Morningstar's body, kept in the freezing cold box for a post mortem later, Mitch couldn’t believe what he saw. “Lucifer!” Mitch shouted as he passed out.

It was after two days after this that Mitch woke up again. This time he was feeling much better. His leg hurt a little less. It was night time, and the clock struck 11 as he saw the nurse enter. “Hope you’re feeling much better now, Detective.”  
“I’m feeling better. Again, for how long was I out?”  
“You’re up at the right time, sir. It’s New Year’s Eve, and the countdown has begun.” The nurse said as she gave him an injection on his arm and left.  
As Mitch stared at the ceiling, trying to get his mind around the bizarre set of events, he felt he really needed to get some air. He put on his jacket that lay beside his bed and took a walking stick as he limped out of his room and the hospital. It was snowing lightly as he started to walk. The streets were filled with people as everyone awaited the New Year. As Mitch recalled Lucifer’s last words to him, he saw an empty can in his path that he kicked out of frustration. He almost lost his balance forgetting about the bullet wound on his leg. As Mitch turned to see where he had kicked the can, he saw that it had nearly missed the same mysterious old man who sat selling shells that he remembered he had made a pact with- A pact to summon the devil that had actually worked. As he ran towards the old man with a lit cigar, he collided with a drunken young man who seemed to be in no sense. Mitch regained his balance only to find that the old man was no longer there. He had disappeared in a jiffy. As Mitch animatedly searched for the old man, loud fireworks went up and lit up the night sky as echoes of “Happy New Year” reverberated in the atmosphere. Mitch stood there, contemplating, as he finally smiled and continued walking as he thought, “It really has been a renaissance of all sorts.”

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